


Streaks

by beersforqueers



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 15:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11016447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beersforqueers/pseuds/beersforqueers
Summary: One shot polyamorous porn good times with Jet/Zuko/Sokka, where Jet and Sokka are having sex at home and recording it via snapchat, and Zuko is dying in a supply closet at work.From this post





	Streaks

**Author's Note:**

> I am going on a trip so I wanted to post something before I left! I hope everyone has an incredible summer :-)

Zuko is at his desk when the first snapchat arrives. The little notification pops up, tiny yellow ghost with a message from  _ captainboomerang _ . 

Zuko stares at it for a second. He doesn’t have a snapchat account. 

He swipes his screen open and clicks around for a second. Sure enough there’s a little yellow square hidden in a nested collection of apps he’s never looked twice at. 

_ Dammit Sokka _ , he thinks. He must have installed it while Zuko wasn’t paying attention, because it doesn’t take much guessing to figure out who  _ captainboomerang _ is. 

The app itself is impossible, all these different screens that he gets confused by, and a stupid camera that opens at such a deeply unflattering angle that Zuko is ashamed to be alive. 

Finally he finds what he thinks is correct, a little red square that he taps and  _ Hey! _ he did it right, cause suddenly there’s a photo. 

It’s a selfie: Sokka shirtless in their bedroom, standing in front of the window in a patch of sunlight that makes him look soft and fuzzy around the edges. Zuko can just make out Jet in the background, lazing on the king size bed that Sokka bought and Zuko insisted wouldn’t fit in their bedroom. “But  _ baby _ ,” Sokka had crooned, eyelashes batted and hands clasped, “if all three of us can’t fit, what’s the  _ point? _ ” 

Even Zuko had to concede that, and the bed had, indeed, fit just fine (“I told you I measured--where’s the trust?” Sokka said smugly). 

Then the picture disappears, and Zuko jabs at his phone frantically. He ends up sending a text to Sokka:

 

[From: Zuko] 2:36 pm

_ Where’d the picture go???? How do I make it come back?? _

 

[From: Sokka] 2:37 pm

_ it’s snapchat, idiot, they don’t cum back _

 

[From: Zuko] 2:37 pm

_ You spelled ‘come’ wrong _

 

[From: Sokka] 2:38 pm

_ or did i ;-)  _

 

Zuko doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but a banner pops up at the top of his screen that says he has another snapchat, so he switches over to that. It’s another little red square, and when it opens, it’s Jet this time. It’s also nowhere near safe for work.

“ _ Jet _ ,” Zuko gasps at his phone. Jet’s taking the selfie now, and it’s a high angle shot down his body, including where he’s pushed his basketball shorts down to reveal his cock, hard against his abs. 

This time when it disappears, another takes its place, and now a hand is wrapped around Jet’s cock. It’s unmistakably Sokka’s. The photo changes again, and now it’s a close up photo of Jet and Sokka kissing. It’s from an awkward angle, like it was clearly difficult to coordinate, but Zuko can see everything that’s important: the way Sokka’s eyes are crinkled up because he’s smiling against Jet’s mouth, the tiny flash of pink tongue between their lips, the flush high on Jet’s cheeks.

Then it’s gone, and Zuko is sitting at his desk with a half-hard cock and a face roughly the color of a ripe strawberry. His phone pings, and he freezes, almost afraid to open the next snap. 

He does it anyway, and promptly regrets everything. 

It’s a photo of Sokka with his lips wrapped around Jet’s cock. Jet clearly took it, because Sokka has one hand wrapped around the base of Jet’s dick and the other wrapped around his hip, and he’s looking coyly up at the camera through his lashes. His lips are pink and shiny, stretched tight around Jet’s thick cock. If Zuko knows them at all, this was all Sokka’s idea, and Jet was more than happy to help out. He would probably die to hear the filth spilling out of Jet’s mouth right now. Both he and Sokka are talkers, but Jet’s brain is capable of great and terrible things once their clothes start coming off. 

There’s a written banner across this photo and it reads, “Next one has sound.”

Zuko hits the lock button in a panic and stares around at his office. Several of the walls are made of  _ glass _ , even if he shuts the door and locks it, it’ll be obvious that he’s jerking off. His assistant is right there, he can see her from here, and glass hardly insulates sound. 

He makes a split second decision, grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his chair and slipping his phone into the breast pocket. 

“Ty Lee?” he pokes his head out of the door, then awkwardly sidles around it and into the reception area. “I’m going out for a coffee. If anyone calls--”

“I’ll take care of it!” Ty Lee chirrups, and Zuko nods gratefully, ducking into the elevator. He rides it down one level, hoping that if he isn’t in his own department, he’ll feel a little less humiliated by this entire experience. 

When the elevator dings he jumps, then scurries out and turns immediately to the right, making a beeline for the nearest supply closet. His phone pings several times in his pocket and he clenches his eyes shut, fumbling with the door handle before it finally swings open and he steps into the mercifully private closet. 

The door has a lock, and he clicks it automatically before turning around to survey his seating options. Through some gift from god, there’s an upturned bucket in the corner next to some shelves, and he sits down on it gingerly, hoping there won’t be any weird marks left on his nice slacks. 

He takes his jacket off and hangs it carefully over a shelf next to him, then retrieves his phone from his pocket and unlocks it. He has to take a second to steel himself before clicking the little square. It’s purple this time, and it doesn’t take long to find out why.

The little closet fills with the sound of Jet’s voice and Sokka’s moans, and Zuko is too transfixed by the sight of Jet’s cock sliding in and out of Sokka’s mouth to be worried about the noise. 

“Pretty little cocksucker, isn’t he Zuko?” Jet rasps. “Such a pretty slut for us,” he says, and Sokka moans are his dick, pulls off and nods up at Jet dazedly. There’s precum shining silky and clear on his lower lip, and he already looks wrecked. The video cuts but there’s another one after it, Sokka sucking hard and Jet’s hand petting through his hair, which is coming loose from its ponytail. Sokka hums happily around Jet’s cock, leans into the touch, and when Jet’s fingers tighten and  _ pull _ , Sokka’s mouth goes slack and he lets out a little whine.

Zuko is very very hard right now. But he’s still at  _ work _ . 

He let’s the next one play anyway. They’ve switched positions, still with Jet taking the videos, but now he’s up on his feet beside the bed, and Sokka is lying on his back, head hanging over the edge of the bed. 

“Should I fuck his face, Zuko?” Jet’s disembodied voice asks nonchalantly. Zuko nods fervently, then feels like a fucking idiot for being alone in this supply closet, hard as a diamond, shaking his head at his cell phone. 

The camera moves down, sort of shaky, and Zuko can see Jet slicking his dick with lube, can see Sokka’s mouth open, can see Sokka licking his lips like he’s hungry for it. 

There’s a second where the screen blinks back to the white screen, and all he can see if the blank purple outline of the video he’s just watched. He feels deprived, let down,  _ what comes next? _

The box refills and Zuko hits it with record speed. He isn’t disappointed--Jet is fucking Sokka’s face and Sokka is loving it, tears and spit streaming down his face, lube wet his lips, hiccuping and moaning. “He wants you to fuck him,” Jet says, and Zuko can’t handle it anymore, he has to unzip his pants before they strangle his dick. “You like getting spitroasted, dontcha, Sokka?” 

Sokka, god bless him, tries to nod with his throat full of cock. Zuko reaches into his boxers, pulls his dick free, and gives it a few strokes as the video changes and he  _ sees _ Jet’s dick in Sokka’s throat, which shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

“Want me to fuck that ass, Sokka?” Jet taunts him, pulling out so that his dick slaps wetly against Sokka’s cheek. Sokka looks thoroughly blissed out, turns his face to nuzzle at Jet’s cock, tongue darting out to taste it. “I’m gonna come on your face if you don’t stop,” Jet reprimands him, but it’s gentle, and Zuko can easily picture the expression on his face right now. Signature smirk in place, but soft around the eyes. 

Zuko squeezes at the base of his cock while he waits for the next video to arrive. On one hand, he cannot  _ believe _ they’re doing this to him right now, but on other other, he isn’t even a little bit surprised. This is exactly the type of shit his boyfriends pull when they’re home alone together for extended periods of time. They both have the afternoon off work, so Zuko supposes he should be grateful they’re fucking instead of blowing up the apartment. 

Zuko isn’t really the jealous type, but the next snap makes him envy Jet. Sokka has to put the phone back down, and he’s using the front camera to record himself. The video is shaky again, because Sokka is up on his knees and elbows, ass in the air, and Zuko can just see the top of Jet’s head from this angle. He’s obviously kneeling behind Sokka and it looks like… “He’s eating my ass,” Sokka slurs. He can barely hold the camera up, but he’s clearly putting in a lot of effort for Zuko’s benefit. The camera lurches as Sokka whimpers and shoves his hips back, and then the video changes and Zuko hears the slap of Jet’s hand on Sokka’s ass, and then nothing at all because Sokka has obviously dropped the phone. 

Zuko screws his eyes shut and leans back against the shelf, jerking his cock in earnest now. He doesn’t want to come before Sokka and Jet are done, but there’s only so long he can pretend to be on a coffee break. 

The next video comes a few moments later, and they’ve switched positions again, probably for optimum cinematographic effect. Sokka is on his back again, and Jet is still on his knees, but now he’s fingering Sokka open. The phone is wobbly because Sokka is essentially useless when he’s getting fucked, mostly just writhes and pants and tries to fuck himself harder onto whatever dick he’s got in him at the moment. 

Zuko always suspected Sokka was a pillow princess, but it wasn’t until Jet moved in that they fully indulged him.

There’s another brief lull where Zuko concentrates as hard as he can on not coming, a goal that nearly goes out the window when he sees Jet’s cock slide into Sokka’s body. Sokka is zooming in for the full effect, but the real treat is listening to Jet’s running commentary“You’re so fucking wet, such a good slut for me,  _ fuck _ , taste so good, feel so fucking good baby,” accompanied by Sokka’s breathy moans and half-choked whining. The camera pulls back so that Jet’s face fills the screen, and he fucking  _ winks _ at Zuko and blows him a kiss. 

“Wish you were here,” Jet grins, and then starts fucking Sokka with hard, sinuous thrusts that Zuko knows from experience feel incredible. Sokka’s face comes next, because Sokka knows how much Zuko loves watching his expressions while Jet’s railing into him. 

“So good, Zuko, fuck, come fuck me, fuck my mouth, I wanna be your slut too,” Sokka mumbles, eyes clenched tightly shut, mouth open and pink and so wet, so used from earlier. Zuko imagines he’s thrusting into it, imagines he’s there with them, and it’s not hard to do with the closet full of the sound of them fucking on screen.

It’s Jet that makes him come. “Fucking love you, fuck, love fucking you Sokka, I love you Zuko, Jesus,” Jet groans, and Zuko is so gone on them that he stuffs his tie into his mouth to stifle his cry as he comes. He catches it in his hand, not wanting to get cum on his suit, but this doesn’t solve his ultimate problem. He’s swiftly coming back to reality with the knowledge that his ass is numb from squatting on a bench, his phone is still playing what amounts to personalized porn, and he’s holding a handful of his own cum. 

The videos cut off after a few more minutes--Zuko has to watch them to the end because he loves watching both his boyfriends come--but then he has to search the shelves for paper towels, try to shake the wrinkles out of his jacket. There’s nothing to be done about the saliva on his tie, but he hopes no one will notice that if he buttons his suit up. 

As it is, he nearly walks out of the closet with his dick hanging out of his pants, and he curses Jet and Sokka and the days they were born. He’s not usually this distractible, but if there was anyone in the world who could get him jerking off at work, it  _ would _ be them. And, well, it was. So. 

He rushes back upstairs to his office. Ty Lee is sitting at her desk blowing huge bubbles with her neon pink chewing gum, probably surfing facebook or something. He considers stopping by her desk to see if anyone called while he was gone, then thinks better of it.

He’s nearly through his door when she calls out to him. 

“Hey Zuko,” she says, and he turns on his heel to look at her. She has a benign smile on her face, but there’s something undeniably shrewd in her eyes. “Where’s your coffee?”

Zuko is never coming back to work again.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [omgbeersforqueers on tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/) if you feel like coming to say hi!


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